


Empty

by JustAnAnxiousMess



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abandonment, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Angst, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Needs a Hug, brief mention of the orange side
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:22:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnAnxiousMess/pseuds/JustAnAnxiousMess
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	Empty

I can't escape this empty void. No matter how I try to fill it with food or just anything it remains just as empty as before. 

Any attempt at filling it with spending time with anyone or anything never works either. It's like trying to force the wrong sized charger into your phone. It almost works but it's not quite the right fit and if you try to force it the socket will break and you won't be able to fit any charger in it anymore. 

This empty hole started small and began to almost shrink to the size of a mouse but now its person sized and growing everyday. I feel nothing yet I still get the urge to cry and when I do the hole seems bigger and I just feel emptier than before. 

There is no 'quick cure' or way anyone can help me 'get better'. This is something that will need lots and lots of time to heal. Broken sleep, emptiness, the urge to cry and just over all not knowing how to cope are the main things ruling my life right now. 

It's like my body has shut down all emotions. I've shed so many tears that now it feels like I have no more left to shed. I should be crying but I just stare into space as my eyelids twitch from exhaustion and I shove food in my mouth in an attempt to fill the empty void inside me. 

No amount of food, drink, music or spending time with 'friends' will work. I'm like a Christmas present that's been wrapped carefully with bright colours but inside there's just a glass decoration that's been smashed into a million tiny pieces that form a fine enough powder in the bottom of the box to snort. There's no way of fixing it except travelling back to a time when it wasn't destroyed. It's just not possible.

So alone, even among a crowd. So tired, even when I spend all day in bed.

No one sees me. not really.

They see the version of me that they want to see, the version that stays the same and never reacts to the harsh words or unfair expectations and assumptions.

I'm getting used to it now though. It's been this way for years and will likely remain this way forever.

The only thing I will probably always struggle with is the knowledge He surely knows how I feel.

How can he not? We both suffered through the same thing yet he likes to act as if I don't exist.

In fact I'm almost certain that if I were to suddenly disappear he would be better off. Free of the burden that is my existence.

I can barely stomach looking at myself in the mirror anymore so I smashed every single one I own.

The others brushed it off as just me being me, their favourite excuse for anything I do or say.

I've given up on trying to tell anyone how I feel after Mr OrangePeelThatCan'tFeel scoffed and practically laughed in my face when I tried to tell him he was the only one who hadn't abandoned me.

I wander through the mindspace, barely seeing my surroundings, stuck listening to all the thoughts in my head that constantly spiral and rage about the others.

Patton. He hates the very air I breathe. Always frowning at the mere sight of me and full of distaste and distrust at my every word. I can never escape the label he's assigned to me as the disgusting evil creature from the depths of the darkest lagoon.

Logan. I don't even register on his radar. I'm a speck of dirt he can just brush away, inconsequential and a mere inconvenience to his carefully laid out plans. I may as well be invisible and mute for all the attention he pays me.

Virgil. Disgust and hate doesn't even begin to describe how much he looks down on me. He used to be so sympathetic and understanding but of course that didn't last. One step into the 'light' and he suddenly saw me as the monster under the bed. The source of the bumps in the night and the shiver down your spine. I was a thing to be feared. Then that fear became hatred and disdain.

Janus. My sweet saviour and source of comfort. So many promises and whispers of love in the night. I should have known better than to trust the master of lies and manipulation but I guess my brother and I are more alike than either of us like to admit. Fools for those who claim to care for us. Like Virgil he dropped me at the first hint of being allowed into the light. No words, no lies, no promises of returning, just a vanishing act.

Roman. The main cause of my heartache and the empty feeling inside me. Brothers in nothing but name apparently. Supposed family that turns it's back the second it gets the chance. Hatred in his voice and on his face when he can manage to look at me. Never meeting my eyes, always looking anywhere but at me. I remind him of everything he could have become and possibly what he could become if he dares stray from the path in the light. I'm the creature in his nightmares and the horrifying reflection in his darkest dreams. I'm everything he doesn't want to be. A reminder of the past he wishes would just disappear.

None of them see me as the person I really am. I'm not as unemotional or unaffected as they think and though I wish I could scream and shout the truth from the rooftops I remain quiet.

There's no use wasting the energy and breath. Plus I doubt I have the ability to do that anymore. Everything takes so much energy. Draining just to exist as I do.

I put up the front they expect, cackle loudly, make inappropriate comments and generally act chaotic but inside the hole is starting to grow so large I feel as if I may combust.

Perhaps I'll become a black hole? I've always been good at sucking things.

There it is again. Those ridiculous thoughts that they expect of me but they don't plague me anywhere near as often as they think.

Not since this aching empty feeling has grown. It's like it's feeding on every part of me, mind, body and soul. If I have a soul that is, or had anyway but I doubt that.

I'm at a loss as to what I can do anymore. Everyday merges into one, nothing changing except the gradual growing sense of dread and numbness.

The urge to lock myself away and let myself waste away is getting harder to ignore.

I wonder if any of them would notice? if they did, would they even care?


End file.
